


Memories of Nobody

by LallybrochLoser



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LallybrochLoser/pseuds/LallybrochLoser
Summary: Not everything is as it seems when Jamie Fraser, soon-to-be-fired maintenance worker at Leoch Distillery, stumbles upon a woman lost in the woods with no memory of...anything!
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 34
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a bit different than you're used to seeing from me. Things will not make sense in the beginning, but I promise you this: if you stick around til the end, it will all come together! Or, I hope it will. I'm taking a bigggggggg jump with writing something this complex. It will be unedited and posted as I write it, so as with The Messenger, there's no set writing schedule. Bear with me as I slog my way through this and enjoy the ride!

There were two things on Jamie Fraser’s mind at present: what his sister could possibly be making for dinner, and the fact that he was an inch away from losing his job at the distillery he worked at. No matter what he did, no matter how carefully he chose his words and actions, he couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble. Colum and Dougal MacKenzie, younger brothers to Jamie’s late mother, Ellen, had only tolerated Jamie’s antics because he was their favorite sister’s only son. Not to mention, the only one in the MacKenzie bloodline capable of running the business after they were gone. But that rope was slowly being unraveled as time went on.

As master mechanic for the big distillery machinery at Leoch Distillery Inc., it was Jamie’s responsibility to ensure everything ran smoothly. He was in charge of directing which men fixed what machines on any given day. Twice his actions had led to machine breaking that didn’t need to be fixed at all, and broken machines that were neglected to cause injury to someone on the distilling floor.

This latest visit to the CEO’s offices involved his cousin Rupert. One of their four main distilling barrels’ heating element mistakenly needed to be replaced, per Jamie’s misguided orders, but because it was fully functional, Rupert got a face full of hot steam, resulting in burns to his eyes. He was rushed to hospital and was expected to be okay, but had Jamie been paying attention to his own orders, it never would have happened.

“I’ve grown weary of yer careless actions, Jamie,” Colum said calmly but sternly from the chair behind a grand oak desk. “Yer cousin coulda been killed today ‘cuz o’ yer foolishness.”

Jamie couldn’t even look at his uncle; he was right. And the only reason why he even still had a job at all, wasn’t because he was Ellen MacKenzie’s only living son, but because despite his shortcomings, no one else in the company had the qualifications he did. No one could replace him. Assuming Uncle Colum wasn’t already searching.

His other uncle, Dougal, standing behind Colum, decided to speak up. “Jamie...yer a good lad, wi’ a big heart...but something’s not right here.”

Jamie looked up at this, startled. Usually, Colum was the calm one, and Dougal was bursting at the seams to shout someone’s head off. This was a strange role reversal if Jamie had ever seen one.

Dougal stepped out from behind the desk, towards Jamie, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Whatever is buggin ye, it’s clearly interferin’ wi’ yer work. Ye’ve never been this accident prone. Why, ye’ve had the highest safety marks in the company’s history! But this last month...”

Jamie didn’t need either uncle to say anything. As if he needed to be reminded of his failures.

“I suggest ye go home and find yerself, boy,” Colum said with an air of spiteful reproach. “Gather yer wits about ye. Or else.”

“Aye, uncle,” was all Jamie could say before he started slowly making his way back towards his locker to change out of his work jumpsuit, gather his belongings, clock out, and make the three mile walk back to the farmland known as Lallybroch, his childhood home.

\---

He didn’t usually walk home; normally Jenny, his older sister, would come by with the van to pick him up. Or her husband Ian would swing by in his truck on his way home from the local grocer he ran and they’d stop at the pub for a bite and a brew. But neither of them were waiting for him outside the distillery. Usually, that meant they were busy, and he would have to walk home.

It wasn’t too terribly far from Lallybroch. In fact, you could see the towering tops of the factory on the outskirts of Broch Mordha, the village just beyond the border of the farm. But Jamie took one look at the dark swirl of blackish gray clouds in the sky and wished he could still sprint like he did in school. It was going to start pouring down rain any moment, and all he had to hand was his trusty brown sherpa-lined corduroy jacket. Great for the harsh winters of Scotland, but did nothing but weigh him down when it rained.

Despite the threat of rain, he didn’t hear the first clap of thunder rolling in the distance until he was close enough to Lallybroch to see the top of the main house. A four-story castle-like tower house of white stone built by Jamie’s 16th-century ancestors, it shadows many landmarks around Broch Mordha. The farmlands had been subjected to many English threats to Scottish welfare, but survived and stayed in the Fraser family. When his father Brian died unexpectedly from a stroke three years prior, his will had stated that it was up to him and Jenny to decide who gained control of the sprawling estate. Jamie, as the only son left, their older brother having died when they were children, knew Jenny and Ian were expecting their second child at the time, and bequeathed the property and all its contents to them. Jenny was so taken aback by the gesture, that she balked at his mention of “finding a place elsewhere.”

_ “You will be doing no such thing, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser! Not while there’s breath in my body, I willna banish ye! Ye’ll stay wi’ us.” _ Jenny’s voice echoed in the back of his mind as Lallybroch became more visible beyond the trees. The woods that surrounded the property were vast and easy to get lost in if you didn’t know your way; a great deterrent for would-be criminals trespassing on the property.

And if Jamie hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, he would have tripped over it and eaten dirt faster than he could spell his own name.

A shoe lay in the boggy wooded area. A woman’s clearly, given the size and shape, a loafer perhaps? Jamie crouched down, and reached out to pick it up. Peering at it, he noticed that the shoe was too big to fit his sister’s feet. And, besides the women he knew from work, he couldn’t think of any other woman who it could possibly belong to. And even if he could, why would any of them be out here, of all places?

Looking out, his heart stopped at the sight.

A young woman with thick wavy brown hair in a filthy, tattered dress laid sprawled out on the ground, limp as a rag doll.

His heart lurched at the sight as he scrambled towards her. As he got closer, he could hear moans of pain.  _ Well that’s something good, _ he thought,  _ at least she was alive. _

“Mistress?” Jamie called out to the woman. But it was as if she couldn’t hear him. He called out again, louder this time. She jumped into a sitting position and scooted as far away from him as she could, a hand pressed hard over her heaving chest. “I’m sorry, lass, I didna mean tae frighten ye. Is this yers?”

He tentatively held the shoe out to her, and she snatched it back, trying and failing to put it on without untying the laces.

“Are ye hurt, ma’am?” Jamie asked cautiously, trying to get closer to her without startling her further. “I can call fer help if ye need it. My lands are just that way.” He pointed in the direction of Lallybroch, hoping the friendliness in his voice and calm stance were showing her he meant no harm.

She said nothing, just eyed him in suspicious contempt.

Jamie managed to get close enough to crouch back down, and looked her in the eyes. Sherry, warm whisky, aged to perfection. He couldn’t place an exact name on the colors, but those were the best descriptions he could come up with. “What is yer name?”

For the first time, emotion shown on the woman’s face. And it broke Jamie’s heart to pieces.

“I don’t know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie knew he needed to bring her inside, but if he laid her as dirty as she was on the couch, Jenny would throttle him no matter his intentions. He left her on the ground just long enough to drape an old sheet across the longest of the three couches in the living room.
> 
> “Hopefully Jenny willna be too cross wi’ me,” he thought as he made his way back outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for smoking. As a former smoker, I do not condone such activities, but I decided to make it part of this chapter. Don't read too much into it though, alright? Please? Thanks, guys.
> 
> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO'S LEFT THEIR LOVE ALL OVER THIS SERIES.  
> I love you all 😚

“Ye don’t know?”

It took his brain a moment to comprehend what the woman had said. He had asked her what her name was, and she claimed she didn’t know. How could someone not know what their own name was?

The woman just replied with an apprehensive shake of the head.

Realizing standing outdoors with the anticipation of a harsh, impending rainstorm was not going to help either of them, Jamie made up his mind.

“Weel, there’s a right nasty storm headin’ this way. My home isna far from here. Why don’t ye come wi’ me lass. My sister and brother in law are home, we can help get ye somewhere safe, maybe feed-”

Something must have snapped within the woman because at the mention of her going with him, she bolted faster than a lightning strike down the path in the opposite direction as he came. 

“WAIT!” Jamie called out as he shot after her. He had been a phenomenal track runner in high school, but that wasn’t his reality presently. While he could still run a mile in under ten minutes when he put his mind to it, this woman was clearly faster than anyone he’d ever met. Before he could think about pushing himself into a sprint like he was fifteen and running the 100-meter dash again, she was long gone.

“What the devil?” Jamie said to no one, his breathing an erratic coughing fit as his heart rate descended to even, slow beats. Hands on his hips, he glared after the woman’s suspected escape route. Thunder rolled across the sky again, louder than before. He squinted up into the vast and growing black, and was met with a big fat raindrop in the eye.

He jerked, cried out, and rubbed at his eye. He cursed the sky in Gàidhlig, but there was no help for it. The mystery woman was gone, and he hoped she was making her way out of the coming thunderstorm. Jamie knew if he didn’t move soon enough, he would be soaked himself. He did not want to deal with Jenny berating him for catching a chill.

He shrugged, tightened his coat around his middle, and finished his walk home.

\---

“Ye canna be blamin’ yerself fer this, Jamie,'' Jenny said between bites of the rabbit stew in her bowl. “Bad things just happen sometimes, ye ken that weel!”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed, but his heart wasn’t into it. Nor was his wame agreeing with his dinner, which was unusual by itself. The Murrays, consisting of Jenny, her husband Ian, and their three children: wee Jamie, Maggie and Kitty, were all clustered around Jamie at the dinner table, feasting on the Fraser family recipe of rabbit stew, homemade dumplings, with a whole cranberry pie waiting for them as dessert. 

Jamie had come home just in time for the rain to dump all over Lallybroch. Jenny had welcomed him home in her usual fashion ( _ “I ken yer no’ walkin’ around the house in yer muddy boots, James Fraser! I just cleaned these bloody floors!” _ ) patted Ian on the back, and allowed their weans to tackle him to the ground like the giant he was to them. The smell wafting from the kitchen attracted him instantly. He made his way towards it and kissed his sister on the cheek upon entering as she was preparing the dumplings that would cook in with the stew.

“What’s wrong,  _ a ghraidh, _ are ye ill?” Jenny said the second she finally looked up at him. Jamie could always mask his true feelings, but his sister knew him almost as well as he knew himself. It wouldn’t work.

“Dinna fash,  _ a leannan, _ ” he said with the most convincing smile he could muster, planting a soft kiss on the forehead. “Did ye need something o’ me while ye prepare supper?” Jenny had shooed him out of the kitchen at that, but as soon as he heard the banging around upstairs, knew where his duties laid.

“Ye look a wee peaked, Jamie,” Ian noted, drawing Jamie back to the present. Jamie took a small bite of his stew as Ian continued,“are ye sure yer no’ coming down wi’ something?”

“No,” Jamie replied, taking another forced bite of food. This was one of his favorite meals, and yet it all tasted like mush to him. He pushed his bowl back. “I’m sorry Jenny. I dinna seem tae have much of a wame tae eat tonight.”

He felt the looks of alarm Jenny and Ian exchanged even if he hadn’t seen them.

“I was plannin’ on takin’ Jenny tae the cinema tonight,” Ian said tentatively, eyeing Jamie as if he were a child on the verge of a meltdown, “ye promised ye’d cared fer the weans. If yer no’ up fer it, we can always go another time-”

“No, no, that isna necessary,” Jamie replied hastily, smiling at his brother in law. “When was the last time ye went out, just ye twa? Go. Enjoy yerselves. I’ll bide, and the weans willna be any trouble.”

“Are ye sure-” Jenny was about to ask, but Jamie’s rigid look of “ _ do it or I’ll make ye”  _ was enough to settle the matter. An hour later, dressed for the evening, Jamie was watching his sister and brother in law drive away from the house in Ian’s truck, the rain loudly pelting down the rooftop.

In truth, despite his day at work, he always looked forward to spending time with his sister’s children. No matter what chaos went on in his life, their innocence and joyous nature were always a balm to his battered soul, a soothing tonic on his troubled heart. He enjoyed talking with them, sharing in their growing spirit, and nurturing their imaginations. 

He told Jenny and Ian he would tend to the kitchen, and he made a game out of it with the older bairns. After an hour and a half, the kitchen was cleaner than a whistle, and he allowed them a half hour of supervised television programming. Kitty was still under a year old, so he cuddled her to his chest while her older siblings danced and sang along to the telly program. Bath time was a riotous occasion, and he had to give his sister saint status for managing to somehow bathe all three kids at once, several times a week! By the end of it, his clothes were soaked, his hair had soap suds in it, and he had been laughing so much alongside them that his cheeks and mouth physically ached with the strain.

He read the bairns a story, and he told another story in Gàidhlig. While Jenny, Ian, and himself had all spoken Gàidhlig as a first language growing up, he knew they were far too busy to sit down and give the weans a proper lesson. So, he took up the mantle himself. Every night it was feasible, he would teach wee Jamie and Maggie a new word or phrase in the Gàidhlig and make sure they had it committed to memory as they fell asleep.

Lessons done, and the bairns all fast asleep, Jamie makes his way downstairs to pour himself a dram and pick up the toys left in the living room. He’s tempted to fish out the wooden box that held Ian’s fine imported tobacco with an assortment of pipes. He turns down Ian’s offer to share a pipe with him every time, doing his best to stay away from such harmful substances. But the day he has had prompts him to indulge, just this once. He knew how to keep it from being a habit.

Living room restored, and his dram in hand, Jamie finds Ian’s stash and stuffs a pinch of it in one of Ian’s lower quality pipes, tasting the scent of its full flavor. He steps out onto the awning of the house, towards the opposite side of where the children’s bedroom windows are. This awful practice is the last thing he wants his nieces and nephew to witness.

He lights the pipe, puffs on it a few times, then takes in a small amount of the bold flavored smoke into his lungs, blowing it out slowly. Jamie knows Ian has a personal preference of tobacco imported from either Nicaguaga or Honduras, but the off chance he sampled something from North Carolina and the man was obsessed. Ian now only imports from the United States.

He was about to bring the pipe back to his lips when a dark shape crossed his peripheral vision. He held his breath, his heartbeat kicking up a notch. When nothing happened, he exhaled, shrugged, and took another drag off the pipe. Or, tried to. Again, he brought the device back towards his face, but when he heard a dull thud on the earth, the sound of tree limbs and loose branches crunching in the process, all thoughts or desires of enjoying a smoke evaporated. He put the pipe out, shaking the loose tobacco out of it.

In the space of a few seconds, he put the pipe away, grabbed the baseball bat his sister kept for home defense and a flashlight, and made his way out towards the location of the sound. Beyond the clearing surrounding the house, there was nothing, so Jamie waded through the forest of trees to see what was amiss. He felt something under his boot before he saw it.

Or,  _ her. _

“Christ, I’ll be damned!” He breathed.

It was his mystery woman from earlier, sprawled out once again on the expanse of dirty forest floor. Only this time, turning her over, shaking her, and calling out loudly enough to wake the bairns did nothing to arouse her from unconsciousness. He would have thought her dead, but he felt a quick pulse bumping against the fingers he pressed into her neck. He could count the individual ribs showing clearly through her dress, which was dirtier now than it was before. Each breath she took was audible as well, like she could get in enough air. How long had she been out here, trying to survive in the elements? When was the last time she had anything to eat? And where in God’s name did she come from?

Jamie knew he needed to bring her inside, but if he laid her as dirty as she was on the couch, Jenny would throttle him no matter his intentions. He left her on the ground just long enough to drape an old sheet across the longest of the three couches in the living room.

“Hopefully Jenny willna be too cross wi’ me,” he thought as he made his way back outside. The rain was heavy in the air once more, an ominous warning. He gathered the woman in his arms, one supporting her upper back, the other cradling her legs at the knees. Her head rested awkwardly against his collarbone, her breath ticking the space between his shoulder and skin inside his shirt. She was dead weight for sure, but she didn’t weigh as much as she possibly could have. For some unknown reason, that scared him.

_ Definitely starved the puir wee thing,  _ Jamie thought as he gingerly carried his bounty, bridal style, into the house. He genially deposited this beautiful burden (and now with sufficient lighting, Jamie could indeed confirm that she  _ was _ beautiful) on the couch, and went to light a fire in the hearth.

He tentatively checked her over for any obvious injuries. Upon finding nothing warranting a call to 999, he slipped her filthy shoes off (and yes, she did retain both of them this time) and placed them close to the fire on a towel. He attempted to rouse her one more time, but to no avail. Laying a worn tartan blanket over her, Jamie’s biggest hope that night was that the woman didn’t expire on him before Jenny and Ian came home.

On top of his uncles’ ire, and his clear failure at living right now, the last thing he needed was to be accused of killing anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie recognized how this might look to the woman. He turned to face her. “I ken this probably feels like we’re takin’ over yer life choices, but my sister is right. It isna safe fer ye tae leave. I can keep ye safe. We,” he gestured between himself, his sister and brother in law, “can keep ye safe. But yer gonna have tae give us a wee bit o’ yer trust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all your love and praise! I know it's been 987654 centuries since I've touched this story, but I'm blessed and thankful to have great readers like you ^_^ enjoy!

Jamie was in the process of making tea in the kitchen when a clattering stramash caught his attention.

_ She’s awake. _

He rushed out and found his mystery woman fumbling to get out of the blankets like she was being strangled. Her wheezes of distress could probably be heard outside, were anyone out there.

Jamie knew if he didn’t try and stop her, she would end up right back where she started. On the streets, cold, hungry, and mostly likely dead.

“Calm yerself lass,” he attempted to say, but she grew more agitated by the moment. He did not want to wake the children, but he also did not want to scare the poor lass away for the second time today. Why couldn’t things just be simple for once?

Eventually, it dawned on Jamie that gentle and kind were not going to work here. The woman was going to hurt herself if she kept on.

He grabbed her arms by the wrists and pinned them high above her head on the couch, crushing as much of his body weight against her as he could without inflicting injury.

The look of fury in his eyes apparently did something because the instant she looked into them, she was stunned into silent stillness.

“I ken yer afeared,” Jamie hissed dangerously, “but there will be a wrath like ye’ve never seen before if ye wake any o’ the three children sleeping upstairs.”

He saw the muscles of her throat work quickly as she swallowed. His chest was pressed hard against hers, and he felt her take a deep breath. The tension in her body slackened slightly.

“D’ye understand me, lass?” He pleaded, enforcing his stance on remaining calm. She nodded, and he settled back. He released his hold on her wrists as she relaxed more visibly. “Would ye like some tea? I was about tae power up the kettle when ye woke.”

The woman contemplated his words for a moment, then nodded in acknowledgement. Fifteen minutes later saw Jamie carrying two cups of tea.

“Thank you,” the woman said, clearly giving away that she was English.

“Ahh, so yer English,” Jamie mused with the hint of a smile.

“Yes,” she said, taking a cautious sip of her tea. He could hear her moan in delight. “Oh, this is wonderful, sir. I can’t remember the last time I had a good cup of Oolong.”

“Among other things,” Jamie replied, but cursed himself as the bitter words left his lips. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“I suppose so,” she muttered curtly. She looked at him, then looked away with a small smile on her face. “I guess this means you want to know my whole life story now, right?”

“As much as ye can remember,” Jamie mused, setting his now empty cup on the table in front of him. “I mean, I think I’m entitled tae ken a wee bit, aye? Despite not knowing who ye are or where ye came from, sassenach that ye are, I still took ye into my home, away from the cold and wet of Scotland, even gave ye a blanket. I dinna often voice what I want in life, but in this case...”

Her lovely face was an open book; he could see how his words, and the emphasis he placed on them, influenced the expressions on her face. By the time he was done talking, Jamie could see that she couldn’t help but agree.

“You are right about that,” she surmised finally, “ _ sassenach _ that I am.” She eyed him with suspicion. “I might not remember my own name, but I do know what  _ that  _ word means.”

Letting his guard down, Jamie conceded. “I ken the Gàidhlig word for ‘English Person’ is something of an insult ‘round these parts, but I promise ye...I didna mean it as such. If I offended ye, lass...I’m sorry.”

Her look of doubt relaxed. “I supposed you didn’t really mean it that way...otherwise...why would you rescue a woman just to insult her later on?”

“Aye,” Jamie acknowledged. “Verra true. So...mistress...what  _ can  _ ye tell me of yerself?”

She took a long, steadying breath before replying, “I am not sure how I ended up in that woods outside your home, sir, but anything that I experienced or knew before that point is lost to me.” She looked down at herself, and wrinkled her nose in apparent disgust. “My clothes are filthy, as were my shoes. You gave me one that had fallen off. Perhaps...I was running from someone? Or, dare I say, something?”

Jamie chewed on that for a tick. “Aye, ‘tis possible...” He brought back the mental images of finding her just beyond the reaches of Lallybroch, cold to the touch and covered in the forest’s grime. He would have tripped over that shoe and eaten dirt himself had he not been paying attention. She could have been running, fearing for her life and not caring where she was going. Her shoelace could have unraveled itself as she traversed the winding forests and thick trees, and one of the roots that were thicker than Jamie’s forearm could have caught it, throwing her off her trail. The shoe pops off her foot, she goes flying across the way, most likely hitting her head along the way.

But, if that were the case, and hitting her head is the cause of her supposed amnesia, why doesn’t she have any marks along her hairline? Jamie checked, doing his best not to admire the soft texture of her bonny brown locks, and found no obvious signs of injury. That didn’t mean something wasn’t wrong with her head, but if she can’t even remember her own name-

“Sir?”

Jamie blinked, and looked up. Now it was his turn to look confused.

“Eh?”

“I asked you what your name was...”

“Oh,” Jamie laughed nervously, “sorry, lass. My name is-”

_ “James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser!” _

_ Iffrin. _

Both the woman and Jamie jumped at the sound of Jenny’s hushed but serious tone of voice. She and Ian were standing in the doorway, mouths agape at both of them.

“How many times do I have tae tell ye?!” Jenny looked like she was making a beeline for their mysterious house guest, and Jamie moved to try and shield her from his sister, but Jenny just got right in Jamie’s face, glaring up at him, and pointed a wicked finger at the floor. “If ye canna remove yer boots ‘afore ye track mud throughout the house, then ye can sleep outside!”

A breath Jamie didn’t know he had been holding released itself from his lungs, and he all but laughed.

“Aye, yer right,  _ a piuthar, _ ” Jamie huffed nervously, “I’m right sorry. I’ll clean it up this instant.”

Jenny nodded, grunting a derisive Scottish noise. She was about to move to do...  _ something _ , whatever it was Jamie would never know, when she finally noticed the woman sitting on the couch.

“Oh,” Jenny emitted softly, “and who is this?” All signs of murderous intent towards her brother evaporated, replaced with a tender, motherly sense of duty. “And how is it ye’ve come to be so filthy?”

“We’ve been trying to puzzle that out,” Jamie said, with some reservation. If the woman had been at all afraid of Jamie, she would definitely run when she got a full measure of Janet Fraser Murray.

“I apologize for any disruption I’ve caused your household,” the woman replied calmly.

“Och, a sassenach,” Jenny said with an air of factuality that it almost sounded like an insult.

“Janet,” Jamie warned slowly. Jenny rolled her eyes at him.

“So,” Ian finally made his presence known, coming to sit down across from the woman. “Welcome tae Lallybroch. Where do you come from, lass?”

The woman’s face fell. Jamie suspected she was getting tired of being asked questions she didn’t know the answers to.

Jamie took the initiative here, and explained the woman’s predicament. Jenny and Ian would occasionally look to her for confirmation on whatever Jamie was saying, and by the time he was done, looks of sympathy and concern were etched onto their faces.

“Weel,” Ian said after a few moment’s silence to process, “ye canna be verra weel goin’ back out in the world. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh but,” the woman protested, “I’ve already trespassed upon your hospitality enough, I’m sure I could-”

“My husband’s right, lass,” Jenny interrupted, “it’s dangerous enough fer a woman wi’ all her faculties in mind...but someone who canna even recall her own name? Nae. I canna in good conscience let ye leave. Ye’ll be safer here. And we’ve plenty o’ room.”

“But I-” she attempted to plead her case, but ultimately gave up. Jamie suspected she realized the sense in their words.

“Jamie,” Jenny said, “what say ye? Yer the one who brought her here...”

Jamie recognized how this might look to the woman. He turned to face her. “I ken this probably feels like we’re takin’ over yer life choices, but my sister is right. It isna safe fer ye tae leave. I can keep ye safe.  _ We _ ,” he gestured between himself, his sister and brother in law, “can keep ye safe. But yer gonna have tae give us a wee bit o’ yer trust.”

The woman made wary eye contact with each of them. Jamie held his breath.

“Alright,” the woman sighed, clearly resigned to her fate. While Jenny and Ian were going on about how she will love it here and where she will sleep, Jamie’s heart was dancing a jig inside his chest.

He couldn’t explain it, but something was telling him this woman and the mystery surrounding her was so much more than a simple need for protection.


End file.
